cast's corruption
Zilchus sits in the wagon and waits. He keeps half an eye out for trouble, but he clearly isn't expecting much here and now.
It's too hot. Ain't nothing moving around here.
Zilch reaches under the seat for his waterskin, his hand fumbling around his shortbow and arrows, and pulls it up for along drink. He looks to see what his fellow guardsmen are doing.
That one there? Dumb as a post.
And that one? It think it's an elf...or half of one anyway. Still little creatures them elves.
Zilch takes another drink.
That one there has his shirt on backwards. And I think he shoes too.
Zilch snuffs the air, putting his waterskin back. Zilchus sits back, knowing there wasn't much to do but wait. The caravan master won't be back with the next job for a few hours, and he thinks that someone might run off with the wagons if they are unguarded.
"I can't believe we have to guard here and now...and in this weather. We could be in town, relaxing. Ain't that right, you piddlespotters?"
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"It's easier to see them coming, out here. Town is full of hard corners and blind spots." Candrana points out, though surely he must know that. Surely, he can't be as dim as *all* that.
She walks around the wagon, then tries leaning nonchalantly against the wagon, like some lazy human would do.
It lasts a moment, no more.
"But we're guarding piddlespotting phoenix poop! It's POOP!! Who is going to want to steal that?!" Zilch responds to Candi. "You know and I know that only one of us needs to be here guarding this. It stinks to high Elysium."
"We guard what they tell us to guard. It must be worth something, or they wouldn't have us guarding it, would they? I wouldn't think. Still, if you want to head out, I'll tell them..." she thinks for a moment, trying to recall something suitably...human.
"I'll tell them something came up!" She flashes what she hopes is an understanding grin. "Don't worry, I've got you covered."
Zilchus pffaws.
"Pffaw! I can hang, I'm getting paid to literally guard this s!@+, I might as well do it. I just don't get it. It's poop. Literal poop. And from a 'phoenix'," Zilch continues, making air quotes around the word 'phoenix'.
"Phoenixii aren't even real. And if they were real, they would have to be the dumbest creature in all Golarion. You know what I mean?" Zilch continues, looking down at Candi.
"How do you know they're not real? Have you been everywhere, done everything, Zilch?" The young fighter swings up onto the wagon, the better to look him in the eye.
"There's a great big world out there, and someone, *somewhere* wishes they had a phoenix and its valuable excrement!" Unable to keep her back to the world around them for more than second, she bounces back down again, twirling with her blades in hand, just in case.
"But they'll have to get through us to get it!"
Zilch pffaws for the second time.
"Pffaw! Yeah, sure, Candi...I'm sure people love phoenixii and totally want to buy, eat, and bathe in their poop!" Zilch eyerolls playfully, knowing that no one could be *that* silly.
"I'm sure there are a herd of birdmen just dying to come worship this altar of phoenix poop, right?" Zilch says as he stands and look around.
Candrana closes her eyes before rolling them at the unfortunate nickname Zilch had taken to using for her. It doesn't help to correct them, ಚಂದ್ರನ, They *can't* help themselves. Her father's voice came back to her, reminding her of the limitations of their human neighbors.
Still, she has to try, at least as far as their job is concerned. "Everyone's Brightness is different, Zilch. For someone somewhere, this Phoenix byproduct could very well be the exact thing they're looking for."
"And it's worth guarding, right? Poop?" Zilch shakes his head, beads of sweat fleeing his forehead in the sun's light. "I just don't get it, Candi. Ain't nobody nowhere who cares about phoenix...even if they *do* exist. I think this stuff is fake...like lightning gnomes and the Pathfinders. Just illusions and folklore."
The strong smell of sweat and alcohol announce the return of the caravan leader before the group see him step out from between two buildings. "Alright yous guys...and gals," he adds the last bit after an angry glance from Candrana, "I's just spoke to the big boss and hes told me we needs to avoid any run ins with da laws, wants a clean crew. Sos I gotta go throughs all your stuff and makes sure you ain't got nothin funny on yas." He pauses the scratch himself and belch. "Let's starts with yous," he points a smelly finger he just scratched himself with (guess where) in Zilchus' face, "since yous seem so attached to yours back pack."
Sense Motive - Mr. Smyth
What the hell? Why is he busting my balls? I ain't stealing any of his 'valuable' phoenix poop. Zilch makes air quotes with his hands even though he isn't speaking aloud as he goes to get 'his' pack.
Reaching the back of the wagon, he grabs 'his' pack.
"Here you go, boss," Zilchus grabs randomly from the bags therein.
Bluff
"I'm sure it's all in order."
Out from the shrubbery comes Grayson deep in thought with his hands on his head.
"In all my life training in the wilderness I have never heard of this rare bird you call a 'snipe'. Are you sure it exists or are you all fooling with me again."
"Wait boss, why do you have my bag! Did you need something?"
Candrana clears a space at the foot of the wagon and empties her own pack, one thing at a time.
"Arrows. More arrows. Flint and steel, a couple of torches, some rope...a mess kit. Do you need to touch every utensil in there, or is my word good enough on that?" ಚಂದ್ರನ flicks a faint eyebrow upwards, her fingers on her right hand flicking impatiently at her side.
Next, she pulls out a sack and begins to go through that. " This? This is a wash cloth. That chunk of waxy looking stuff there is soap." Be nice, ಚಂದ್ರನ, soap is probably new to him. Just explain things, gently. and slowly.... "And this is a pot, for boiling water to go with the soap. and the wash cloth."
Mr. Smyth tries to keep his eye on Zilchus while answering his guards questions.
"All rights your stuff looks goods Zilch, buts I got my eyes on ya." He then looks through Ezekiel's bag pausing to clean out his ear with his pinkie finger. "Nothin funny heres either." He looks over at Grayson as he emerges from the woods, "nice of yous to joins us for an inspection, but I thoughts I told yous to stay by the wagon. Can't guard the wagon if yous offs chasing squirrels." After he goes through Grayson's bag he tosses it at the ranger's feet. He then looks at all of Candrana's stuff and seems more interested in scratching himself then in what she has to say. He pauses a moment before adding, "Yous elves do some funny stuff," He picks up the soap and sniffs it,"buts I don't thinks I'll be trying any of this soup yous talking about. Now where is that other ones I hired? He off at the tavern with outs me?"
"See? That's what I was saying. Ain't nothing to worry about," Zilch says, returning 'his' pack to the wagon.
"Grayson, we'll get to the problems with your snipe hunting technique in a moment. You're probably doing the call wrong," Zilch talks to the boss, Mr. Smyth.
"What is our next haul, boss? When are we moving on? We're getting of tired of guarding this crap." Zilch points at the literal crap. "Did you have a buyer?"
"Oh is that what I've been smelling, I thought that smell was from you bo...." Cutting his sentence short.
"So ya, do we have a buyer for this, because I've noticed some flowers turning brown around here"
"Whoahs, don'ts sneak ups on me like dats!" He says to Aodan who was standing silently behind him. "Wheres were yous anyway? huntin snipes too? Wells it don'ts matter anyways. We gots a buyer up north sos lets get goings."
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Quietly pulling the cowl of his hood back just a little, over-sized purple eyes peer back at the man.
"My apologies, my good man." Deft fingers trace his bowstring and a wry smile cross his lips. "I can honestly say my Snipe hunting days are behind me."
Looking around, he tries to make himself helpful, not batting an eye when the smell of Phoenix poop wafts through the air. "I'm at your disposal." Especially if there is coin involved.
"You'll need to dump your bag, Aoden. Apparently, he needs to see what all we might be carrying with us on this trip." How odd. I can't decide if the slight elven features make him look more or less odd than a regular human.
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"Oh."
Dump my bag? Another paranoid Elf! Are they all like that? Wait, she said 'he,' right? So it's the caravan master who is a control freak! I mean, what I carry is my own personal business. I really don't need a bunch of ruffians to know, not after Heldalel's reaction.
"Here."
He has to pull back his cloak, revealing close fitting leathers criss-crossed with straps, several vials nestled in pockets, various small tools and gadgets slipped into various slits, and pouches jangling next to the knife and dagger sheathed on his belt.
It takes a moment, but he removes two quivers, a wineskin, bedroll, and coil of rope hanging on him, before he retrieves the backpack. He starts whipping a miscellany of items - a ball of string, jerky, thread, jerky, a fishook, jerky, a mug, dried fruit, flint and steel, jerky, a torch, jerky... He suddenly stops and very gently lifts out a quill, some parchment, and a book.
He scowls up to anybody watching him. "Yeah, I can read." And write. So sue me.
He quickly nestles the tattered book back into the pack, before carefully repacking the items around it, and readies himself to depart.
Zilchus looks at the halfelf, a jealous squint to his eyes.
He's always rubbing his elfiness in my face. He's got it all.
Zilch gets ready to move on, waiting for orders from the boss.
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"Boss says no contrabands sos I gotta checks your bag. I don'ts see nothin fishy so let's gets outta heres." With that your journey begins and your trip north through the Verduran Forrest is uneventful. The road to Wispil crosses the Verduran Fork river and follows it west. As you approach a small village you see a group of men waiting in the road. Based on their light armor and weapons they look to be the local law keepers.
Mr. Smyth calls out, "Woooooahs!" to bring the caravan to a halt as the men approach. One of them speaks up, "Welcome to Belhaim. I am sherif Hunts and word from Cassomir is that so gems have gone missing. As a precaution we are inspecting all the caravans in case the thieves are trying to smuggle the gems out of the country." He then signals his men who start searching the wagon and your bags. One of the men at the back of the wagon calls out, "take a look at this boss," as he holds up a poop covered gem. The sherif turns to the party, "alright who is in charge here."
Zilch leans over to whisper to Aodan.
"Who knew that phoenix pooped gems? Or do gems grow in their poop? Either way, when we finish this, we should trick Grayson into looking for more for us, eh?"
Zilch waits for the Boss to handle things.
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Aodan stiffens when the guards move towards his bag, but his attention swings when they pull out wealth from the poop.
"Well, it's a novel approach to easily convertible assets..."
He looks over at the boss, wondering if the man transporting magical bird droppings would have what it takes to smuggle gems. His eyes scan the crowd - the gritty human Ezekial, the graceful Grayson, the She-Elf, and the "nothing" driver, wondering if any of them could have been so bold.
"I gots no ideas how dats got in theres. Maybe ones of these guys did it."
Mr. Smyth spits on the ground and scratches himself. "Yeahs I da leader and my names is Mr. Smyth."
You tell him, boss.
Zilch looks bored. He's ready to drive on after the Boss clears this up.
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One of the deputies walks over to the sheriff and whispers something in the sheriffs ear, making a big grin form on the sheriff's face. "Looks like we got a big haul today boys, not only did we find the missing gems but this fellow here is Silas Gribb a wanted smuggler. Throw the manacles on him and we'll let the city people dig out all the gems when we get to Cassomir." As the deputies take Silas Gribb and the caravan wagon away the sheriff looks at the party. "Now what to do with the five of you? Tell me why I shouldn't take you in for aiding a know smuggler."
"A known smuggler?!?!? I can assure you that had I known he was a known smuggler, I would *not* be associating with him, Sir. And I'm reasonably certain that none of these others ever knew him before we were hired on as guards. He kept saying "da boss" said this and 'da boss' said that. In all honesty, he didn't really seem smart enough to be a smuggler, which is probably why we didn't suspect it of him, or we wouldn't be working for him, would we? " right. That's brilliant. Father will be mortified if you get arrested you know, especially in this company.
Zilch looks at the guard, wondering if he heard correctly.
"That guy!? THAT GUY is a master smuggler!? I'm pretty sure you got the wrong guy. That guy, Mr. Smyth couldn't smuggle a turd out of his ass. Have you ever spoken with him? He's an idiot...we're hauling piddlespotting *poop* for Desna's sake! He ain't nothing!" Zilch exasperates.
"What are you going to do with us? How about finding us new jobs! That would be much more helpful than taking away the guy who was paying us!"
Zilch begins to gather his belongings so he can walk to the nearest town and find new work.
"Crappity piddlespot! We haul that freakin' poop up and down Taldor, smelling the gnomeawful odor for miles and now we don't even get paid? What the #%@!@!" Zilch grumbles as he packs.
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"Just a bowman hired to guard. Know nothing of smuggling."
One hand grips his bow tightly as the other gestures innocently. He nods towards the elf. "Like she said."
Look how far I've fallen now, Olytriannoi, being questioned by some rough constable. Would there be any sadness for this state, or do you believe I deserve it? Did you actually think Heldalel would be worthy of his debt?
His eyes dart from Ezekiel and Grayson to Candrana, hoping the sheriff will let them pass and wondering if the others will follow the the departing Zilchus.
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Sheriff Hunt chuckles at Zilchus' master smuggler comment. "I agree he is definitely not the brains of the operation, and as your lovely traveling companion has pointed out he was working for someone else. Even if he is a lackey he is the one moving the goods across borders making him a smuggler. Given this 'bosses' choice of employees you don't really fit the bill so I'm not going to arrest you. You are welcome to stay in Belhaim", he gestures to the town off in the distance,"until the next caravan comes along. If you are short on coin just tell the owner of the local inn I sent you, she's got a soft spot stranded travelers." He points to one of the larger buildings across the river before he jogs off to catch up with his deputies.
"WHAT!? You're going to make us walk there!? At least let me drive the wagon to the station or whatever you need the poop hauled. Sheesh...you want me to walk?" Zilch carps as he grabs his backpack, heading towards town.
"You piddlespotters coming or are you waiting for a goodbye kiss from the Sheriff? He's been nice and all, but he ain't bought you dinner yet."
Zilch begins to walk towards the Belhaim, wherever that might be.
"Who knows guys this could be worse, we could've been arrested with Mr. Smyth. I for one welcome a change from guarding this poop. Now let's see what this town has for us."
Grayson begins to walk towards Belhaim as he listens to Zilchus rant away.
"It won't kill you, Zilch.Come on, guys. We might as well head in and see if there's any other work available." Candrana shoulders her pack and starts moving. The sooner you start, the sooner you're finished, ಚಂದ್ರನ.
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He looks one last time at the wagon and Mr. Smyth, looking for any clues that might give him an idea of the accused smuggler's origin or affiliation, wondering Where in Yuelral's arcane world does one find such quantities of Phoenix feces?
Hearing what Zilchus says about the sheriff and dinner, he rolls his violet eyes, his mind muttering What a crude, uncouth man to himself. With a shrug, he pulls his cloak tightly around him, before heading after the huffy driver.
Listening to what the lady has to say, he nods. "More coin would always be good."
There is a quiet spring in his step as he moves towards an inn and, hopefully a hot meal and a chance for employment.
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Following the road into town the party passes a small farm. The sign out front reads,"Malak Farm". The corral out back is full of black and white cows and the stench is similar to the wagons. You cross the bridge into town and to te left is the local garrison, which is easy to identify as the caravan's wagon is parked out front with a few of the local deputies. To the right is The Wise Piper inn, it seems to be a good sized and well maintained establishment. Across the way you see signs on a few of the other shops Xemme's Tonics, Nachis Sisters and Akil's Meats.
"The Wise Piper Inn, hmm? I think this is where he said to look." The other shops look interesting, but might need to find a job first, before spending anymore coin.
"Are you coming, Ezekiel?"
Who is Ezekiel? Zilch looks around, wondering.
Oh, that one. His shirt. Backwards. I'm sure of it.
Zilch follows Candrana to the Inn.
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He spies the inn and his spirits lift. An inn means ale, warm food, a roof, and possibly even a bed! And with someone it in! He sighs inwardly. At least a half-breed can dream...
"Time for a drink."
He snuggles his cloak a bit more tightly around him and looks to see if the other abandoned guards were coming. What were their names? Ezekial and Grayson, right? Once he enters, he looks to catch the eye of whatever publican or server might be about.
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"Yeah, sorry, just a little distracted by Smyth. Just kinda curious why they would make it so easy to catch a smuggler like that. I mean, if we were really smuggling something, wouldn't it have been harder to find?
I drop my pack next to a chair and sit down to think more about what happened.
"And I wouldn't have picked that brain-addled buffoon to be the one who smuggled 'em either"
"I thought all...that is.... yes, he was a little dense." Careful, ಚಂದ್ರನ. No need to insult them. Of course they're not all that dense; it just seems that way.
Candrana lets her gaze move through the inn, looking for the likely owner with a soft spot for travelers.